


As It Always Is

by trainwhistlesatnight



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Gen, Punishment, Solomon is only like 15 in this, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 16:30:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19931080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trainwhistlesatnight/pseuds/trainwhistlesatnight
Summary: A look into how the necromancer temple when Solomon was younger, and how it had rather.. Different methods of teaching and punishment.





	As It Always Is

**Author's Note:**

> Hmu at train-whistles-at-night on tumblr !

The feeling is.. Not a pleasant one, to say the least. His foot sinks in the mud, and he irritably yanks it out. _‘Of course this would happen today,’_ Solomon thinks. _‘Just one more thing to add to the list, right?’_

The High Priest had been upset with him. Very upset. He’d been sent outside, even though it was pouring freezing cold water. “You like to be outside the safety of these walls so much, Solomon? Then get out. And do not come back until I send for you.” 

Solomon, smaller, and more nervous and frail, tried to argue, to ask. “But how will they know where I am?” But he was cut off. The High Priest’s voice was sharp and angry, and if it were physical, it surely would have cut him to ribbons.

But as it was, it was only verbal, but it did not stop him from feeling his insides twist painfully. “They will _KNOW, now get. **Out!**_ ” And with a sharp wave of the High Priest’s hand, he was shoved out of the room, and the door was slammed shut by shadows. He wanted to ask if he could at least get a cloth to keep over his head, but he was worried he’d be shouted at more for it, so he put the thought away and scrambled outside.

It was already raining when he got outside, and it pelted on him. The rain was so cold it felt like it was stinging him, and all that combined with the tongue lashing he had gotten had made him quite upset. So much so that he could feel hot tears welling up in his eyes. He breathed heavy through his teeth, trying not to cry. He muttered to himself, mumbling how stupid he felt, how stupid crying was, how cruel the High Priest was, how he deserved the insults, the punishment, how the rain hurt-

He mumbled over and over how he shouldn’t cry, shouldn’t cry, shouldn’t cry-

Before he burst into tears.

He ran through the rain, till his lungs burned and cried out for air, till he was sure he’d pass out, till he was sure dying would be better than this, till he tripped and fell, slamming into the muddy ground. Solomon slowly scrambled up, crying still and crawling to a tree to rest against. 

The world puddled around him, becoming muddy and squishy and soft in all the worst ways. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, and though he was just pushing fifteen, he wanted to throw a fit. Wanted to slam the ground and kick and make a horrible scene.

But having a fit wouldn’t fix it. So when he’d cried it out, he got up. Vaguely wiped the tears away and smeared more mud on his cheeks. He fitfully tried rubbing the mud away periodically, but the still drizzling rain did more to wash it away than his rubbing did.

Hours later, his tummy growled, and he thought about going back.. But no one had come for him yet. So he kept walking, till he got to town. He slept in an inn for free that night, courtesy of a mortal wife and husband feeling bad for him. And as nice as it was, it couldn’t last forever, or even another night. So he left again.

No one ever came for him.

He went back on the third day. 

There are no welcoming or open arms, especially not from the High Priest. When he sees the young necromancer, in fact, he barely greets him, and tells him to get cleaned up- there will be an announcement later.

As he showers and gets dressed up again, Solomon can’t help but be thankful he at least won’t miss out on anything.

Home sweet home…

Right?


End file.
